NONKINSENSE
Adventures of an Analog Man in the Digital Universe, with a little help from my friends and relations.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
More Sopranos, Three of more, much more.
Dr. Melfi: Why don't we talk about your friends you seem to be quite fond of them, are you not?!!??
Tony: Sure, they got my back, what goes on between the family, stays within the family, we all know the rules, we did not make them up from the suggestion back in Satriale's toilet. We live by honor, integrity, we do the right thing, by the family, always, no gray areas, it's black and white, white like the The Beatles White Album, Black as in Back In Black, AC/DC Cased closed! It's Blood on the Tracks, Street Survivors, Get Yer Ya Ya's Out, Abbey Road, Actung Baby.
Dr.Melfi: Then what about all those e-mails you send.
Tony: One or two keeps people in line, makes them laugh, laughter is the best medicine, that's my motto. What harm can I cause by askin' my guys for their 5 favorite keyboard players, female vocalists, concert venues, albums, singing bass players and song references about sex and drugs and rock n roll.
Dr. Melfi: You realize it's a very stressful time for people in 2005, there's an awful lot going on and an awful lot of fear and mistrust out there.
Tony: I see it alright, I see it everyday, in my underwear downloading music and suggesting a couple of songs to play later on, I see it. Jesus H. Christ, I see it clear as fuckin day, people are afraid of getting WHACKED, DICKED UP THE ASS, ELIMINATED, DELETED, CUT UP INTO FINE PIECES AND DUMPED ON CANDA AVENUE OR FRIGGIN LINCOLN TERRACE.
Dr. Melfi: And you would do that?
Tony: Of course not, what are you shittin' me, I'm nothin' more than an Independant Contractor without Medical Benefits, working for the same lousy nickel and dime I started with 8 years ago. Fuckin pathetic is what it is. I studied the Bass at the Collective and been playing more and more keyboards since Paulie Walnuts'Five Minutes to the stage or whatever the fuck they're calling it these days, I must say I like playing the fuckin' keyboards, not as good as Eddie Layton, Jane Jarvis, Uncle Floyd, Paul Schaffer, Geraint Waitkins, Dr. John, Professor Longhair, Johnnie Johnson, Billy Preston, Ray Charles, Leon Russell, Steve Winwood, Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Booker T, Billy Payne, Chuck Leavell, Rick Wakeman, the guy from Strawbs or Gentle Giant, Fred, what the fuck?
Dr.Melfi: And what do you intend to do about it? Do you think of harming these people.
Tony: No fucking way, I wouldn't give them the GODDAM satisfaction of sending the friggin Government Corporate FCC Lawyers after me. Chill out, relax, laugh, cry, take a shit, delete, assholes, it's a joke, a distortion on reality. Reality sucks, I know, fuck that shit, enjoy one another, enjoy what we share and shared, enjoy the bobka, the lox, the macaroni salad, which none of you fucks, touched, the fucking bagels, flowers, and soft pretzels, enjoy the Afterlife, the Knockouts, Life Support, Found Money, especially that, The Liars, The New York Dolls, Your 15 minutes, Personal Noise, that's right, you heard me, The Burrito Bar, Mustang Harrys, Friggin Sallys, Molly, whatever the fuck the name is, the DVD's and tapes, The Orange Bear, The Bitter End, life's too fucking short to worry about my fucking Sopranosense blogs and e-mails. You won't get whacked by me, look at the guy next to you, in your fucking cubicle, you have to share with six other assholes, who's names you can't goddam remember after only two fuckin' weeks because there being downsized in another three months anyway.
Tony: Sure, they got my back, what goes on between the family, stays within the family, we all know the rules, we did not make them up from the suggestion back in Satriale's toilet. We live by honor, integrity, we do the right thing, by the family, always, no gray areas, it's black and white, white like the The Beatles White Album, Black as in Back In Black, AC/DC Cased closed! It's Blood on the Tracks, Street Survivors, Get Yer Ya Ya's Out, Abbey Road, Actung Baby.
Dr.Melfi: Then what about all those e-mails you send.
Tony: One or two keeps people in line, makes them laugh, laughter is the best medicine, that's my motto. What harm can I cause by askin' my guys for their 5 favorite keyboard players, female vocalists, concert venues, albums, singing bass players and song references about sex and drugs and rock n roll.
Dr. Melfi: You realize it's a very stressful time for people in 2005, there's an awful lot going on and an awful lot of fear and mistrust out there.
Tony: I see it alright, I see it everyday, in my underwear downloading music and suggesting a couple of songs to play later on, I see it. Jesus H. Christ, I see it clear as fuckin day, people are afraid of getting WHACKED, DICKED UP THE ASS, ELIMINATED, DELETED, CUT UP INTO FINE PIECES AND DUMPED ON CANDA AVENUE OR FRIGGIN LINCOLN TERRACE.
Dr. Melfi: And you would do that?
Tony: Of course not, what are you shittin' me, I'm nothin' more than an Independant Contractor without Medical Benefits, working for the same lousy nickel and dime I started with 8 years ago. Fuckin pathetic is what it is. I studied the Bass at the Collective and been playing more and more keyboards since Paulie Walnuts'Five Minutes to the stage or whatever the fuck they're calling it these days, I must say I like playing the fuckin' keyboards, not as good as Eddie Layton, Jane Jarvis, Uncle Floyd, Paul Schaffer, Geraint Waitkins, Dr. John, Professor Longhair, Johnnie Johnson, Billy Preston, Ray Charles, Leon Russell, Steve Winwood, Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Booker T, Billy Payne, Chuck Leavell, Rick Wakeman, the guy from Strawbs or Gentle Giant, Fred, what the fuck?
Dr.Melfi: And what do you intend to do about it? Do you think of harming these people.
Tony: No fucking way, I wouldn't give them the GODDAM satisfaction of sending the friggin Government Corporate FCC Lawyers after me. Chill out, relax, laugh, cry, take a shit, delete, assholes, it's a joke, a distortion on reality. Reality sucks, I know, fuck that shit, enjoy one another, enjoy what we share and shared, enjoy the bobka, the lox, the macaroni salad, which none of you fucks, touched, the fucking bagels, flowers, and soft pretzels, enjoy the Afterlife, the Knockouts, Life Support, Found Money, especially that, The Liars, The New York Dolls, Your 15 minutes, Personal Noise, that's right, you heard me, The Burrito Bar, Mustang Harrys, Friggin Sallys, Molly, whatever the fuck the name is, the DVD's and tapes, The Orange Bear, The Bitter End, life's too fucking short to worry about my fucking Sopranosense blogs and e-mails. You won't get whacked by me, look at the guy next to you, in your fucking cubicle, you have to share with six other assholes, who's names you can't goddam remember after only two fuckin' weeks because there being downsized in another three months anyway.
